


Precipice

by sad_goomy



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Light Angst, Self-Worth Issues, Sort Of, lonashipping, mahinashipping, moon and gladion deal with self-esteem in different ways, shoutout to the tumblr anon who gave me this awesome prompt to play with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 02:38:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16823461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sad_goomy/pseuds/sad_goomy
Summary: Moon is Alola's first Champion.Gladion ends up being its second.





	Precipice

He finds her out on the back porch, with stained cheeks and a hoarse voice. She clears her throat and wipes at her face to try and hide her shame, but there’s no use. 

Gladion stands awkwardly in the doorway, his white celebratory lei a stark contrast against his dark shirt. 

“Hi.” 

She watches him a moment longer, curled up on the wicker chair and looking, for once, like a fifteen-year-old girl. 

“Hey.” 

He’s never been good at talking to girls, least of all pretty rivals. Throw in the fact that he’s sure Moon’s been crying and he’s absolutely useless. He fidgets with the sleeves of his shirt, realizing he should have used the walk over to think of something to say to her. Instead, he was too busy wondering if he was going to wake up from this fever dream in which he’s defeated her after a year of trying. 

He’s Champion of Alola. 

And he’s not quite sure how to feel about it. 

Realizing he’s been too quiet for too long, he clears his throat. “Your mom let me in.” 

She nods, and they go back to their silence, dwelling in a reality that’s stranger than fiction. If they listen closely, they can hear the wind carrying the sounds of a party – _his_ party, meant to celebrate his victory. It’s a night-long affair in Iki Town and he left early, so she asks, “What are you doing here?” 

It’s slightly accusatory, but he can’t blame her. He doesn’t have a great record with being a sore loser, so why would he be different when he wins? But he tells her honestly, “I’m not sure.” He opens his mouth to say something else but closes it, unable to hold her gaze or answer the question in her eyes. “I haven’t seen you all week.” 

“Yeah, I’ve...” She trails off, finishing lamely, “I’ve been busy.” 

He nods, and she nods, and they’re back to the awkward and heavy silence. He takes a seat on the chair next to her, the creak of wicker under his weight still not enough to break the tension. Gladion wonders if this would be any easier if they had actually managed to become friends, _really_ friends. Moon wonders if he sees her differently now, now that the shiny veneer is gone. 

The far-off sound of ocean waves draws her in, and she gazes out at the sea. “How was the party?” 

“Loud.” He cringes, because it sounds ungrateful. He quickly amends, “Nice, but...loud. A little too much of everything.” 

Truth be told, this entire week has been too much of everything. He’s been ushered around all four islands, lectured to, had mountains of paperwork thrown at him; it’s not what he expected the title to come with, but then he’s not sure what he expected in the first place. 

Moon gives him a sympathetic look, understanding at once, before it shifts into a nervous frown. “I wasn’t sure if I should go,” she admits slowly, feeling herself become raw and vulnerable for the fourth time tonight, “But I wasn’t really feeling up to it, and Hala mentioned that other regions usually don’t have their former Champion at the celebration.” 

‘Former’ stings when it leaves her mouth, and her lips twist in distaste. Gladion feels a pang in his chest, a knee-jerk reaction that forces him to blurt, “I’m sorry.” 

She turns to look at him with a raised brow. “Don’t be sorry.” 

But he can’t stop the words, can’t stop the awful guilt that’s been eating at him all week because he hasn’t seen her. He’s at the edge of his seat, hands fidgeting and knee bouncing as he’s already three miles into a downward spiral. “It just feels like I’ve stolen -” 

“Stop.” Moon’s hand is on his leg, and he freezes under her touch, eyes shifting to her stern expression. “No. No, Gladion, you won,” she asserts, and she slowly draws back her hand but holds his stare, “We both did our best, and you beat me fair and square.” 

There’s a pause as he processes her words, processes the fact that of all the people to comfort him right now, _she’s_ the one; maybe they really have been friends this whole time. He swallows the last lump of guilt and nods, looking down at his hands. “Okay.” 

“Was that harsh?” She bites her lip, watching him withdraw into himself. This is the softest she’s ever seen him, and she frowns at the thought that she might be the one ruining what should be a night of celebration. 

But he smirks, not quite capable of a chuckle as he looks up at her and teases, “A smidge.” 

Moon gives him a lopsided smile, and they retreat to their thoughts for another moment as she mumbles, “I’ve just been thinking about it.” She chews over her next words carefully, a far-off look in her eyes. “Been coming to terms with everything. It still doesn’t feel real sometimes.” 

“Same with me.” He looks up at her with relief, glad that someone else is just as disoriented as him. All week it seems like everyone’s known exactly what to do, where to turn next, and he’s been seven steps behind and grasping around in the dark for some sort of light. “I keep thinking I’ll wake up, or I’ll get a call and someone’ll say there’s been a mistake.” 

“But there wasn’t.” And Moon’s frown takes on a deeper shade as she realizes just where all of his confusion is coming from, of the ugly truth behind his refusal to accept the reality. She leans forward in her seat once more, and silver and green meet again as she places a comforting hand on his arm. Her voice is low and steady as she tells him with no hesitation, “You deserve this, I mean – you know you’re amazing, right?” 

Because as much as she hates being left without ~~a purpose~~ a title, she’s so glad that it’s him who gets to wear the crown next, who gets to realize just how important he is. 

Gladion swallows hard, and without thinking his hand is on top of hers, gently squeezing. “So are you.” 

She falters. “I...sure.” 

He frowns. “What?” 

“Nothing.” But she takes her hand back, and all her confidence is gone as her eyes are on the floor. 

Gladion remembers the last time he’s seen her like this, holding her own hand and so unsure of everything around her. It was when the dust first settled and they saw that he’d won, and neither of them could breathe. Just before the buzzer went off, just before the confetti popped and he was whisked away, he looked to her, mouth agape and about to step forward to try and say something. He stopped, because she wasn’t looking at him, she wasn’t really looking at anything at that point, just holding her own hand and staring into space with the one look that he hated most on her. 

Fear. 

Now, though, they’re alone, and there’s no buzzer to cut him off, so he says, “It sounds like something.” 

Moon bites her lip, shrugging to try and play it off as nonchalance. “I’ve just realized some things about myself.” 

“Like what?” 

It’s several moments before she speaks again, and he can see her eyes growing wet no matter how hard she blinks. 

“Like the fact that I’m a one-trick Ponyta.” She doesn’t like how bitter her voice is, or even the fact that she’s saying this at all. No matter how much she mentally chastises herself for bothering him with any of this, she keeps going, “That I’ve built my entire life so far on this one skill I have, and turns out I’m maybe not as good at it as I once thought.” 

“That’s not true,” he tells her quickly, but he can’t think of anything else to say as he grapples with the one thought that never crossed his mind. 

For all the bitter thoughts he’s had about himself, for all his self-consciousness and self-deprecation, she’s been going through the same. 

She’s not afraid of him. 

She’s afraid that he’s revealed some unspoken truth about her. 

“It’s okay, I’m...” Moon takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. When they open once more, the tears are gone again, replaced instead with a melancholic acceptance. “I’m adjusting. It’s a reality check.” 

He’s not sure why, but his anger flares; it always does when he feels something deep within him that he can’t place. Gladion stands, as if he’s ready for a fight, and she watches with wide eyes as his hands turn to fists. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to quit.” He scoffs, speaking to the forest beyond the patio as he crosses his arms. “What, just like that? You _do_ realize that the only reason I could beat you is because you inspired me to work this hard in the first place, right?” 

His words hang in the air for a moment, and then land on her with a soft thud. He feels a flush crawl up his neck at her silence and inquisitive stare. 

A corner of her mouth quirks up and she stands. “Who said anything about quitting?” 

He blinks, realizes that he’s overreacted once again, and the flush is now on his ears and cheeks. “Sorry, I just...” But he’s not sure what he was getting at, why he’s so insistent that she knows how important she is to him, so he bites his tongue and blushes. 

She lets out a breathless chuckle before going to the edge of the patio, leaning against the railing and looking at the space where the forest transitions into the beach. “But I’ve started to wonder what I am beyond Champion,” she mumbles, her voice still soft but lighter now – hopeful. 

“You’re the girl who saved the world, to start,” he says as he joins her, leaning against the railing and watching her roll her eyes. 

“Technically just the Alola region.” She shrugs, as though fourteen-year-old girls who defeat evil organizations and all-powerful aliens are a dime a dozen. “Besides, that’s...that’s a one-time deal.” 

Gladin raises a brow, unable to keep himself from letting out a one-note laugh of disbelief. “Are you seriously going to play it off as a fluke?” 

“I just don’t think it’s a very sound basis for a personality.” She turns to him to share a smirk, groaning, “Can you imagine how insufferable I’d be?” 

“More than you already are?” 

She scowls and lightly smacks his arm, and he chuckles, and for one moment it feels so wholly normal that they forget the precipice they’re standing on. 

But when Moon looks back out at the sea, her mind reckons with the turning point she’s facing, and they both know that they can’t run from the changing tides any longer. 

“You know, Anabel reached out to me a little while back.” He looks at her, but her eyes are on the railing as a finger lazily traces the wood grain. She chews her lip before telling him, “Said there might be a spot for me at Interpol. Some unusual activity in other regions.” 

He nods, considering what she’s saying. “Confidential?” 

“Of course,” she mumbles, looking up at him – the impish spark in his eyes jumps to hers. 

“And yet you’re telling me about it.” 

“I trust you.” 

He pauses, faltering when her teasing so quickly turns to sincerity. It warms his chest, but it also reminds him that she’s serious, that she’s telling him all of this for a reason, so he asks the question he already knows the answer to: “Are you thinking of taking it? The position, I mean.” 

“It would seem I have some free time on my hands.” It’s less bitter than before, more just amused at the entire situation they find themselves in. She adds, her eyes focused intently on the waves crashing at shore, “And I’d get to travel. Get stronger. Find out who I really am.” 

He looks down at his own hands, fingers tapping on the wood to give them something to do besides worry. “How long?” 

“About a year.” She gauges his reaction, but he doesn’t want to influence; he doesn’t think he has the right. He only nods, keeping his face unreadable as he realizes just how long a year really is. 

When he looks at her again, he’s smirking, something in his eyes that she can’t identify yet. “I expect a battle when you get back.” 

And she laughs, “Can’t you just say that you’ll miss me like a normal person?” 

She figures he’ll roll his eyes and mutter something snarky, but instead he awkwardly pulls her into a hug. After a moment of surprise, she carefully wraps her arms around him, and realizes that this is the first time he’s ever hugged her, and she closes her eyes for no particular reason other than to enjoy it for all that it’s worth. 

It’s bittersweet that their first hug is also their last for a while. 

“I’ll miss you, Moon.” 

* * *

“You’re late.” 

He can’t see her yet, but he can hear her walking up the stairs. His fingers nervously tap on the arm of the throne, and a new crop of Butterfree release themselves from his stomach. 

He wonders what she looks like, what she’s seen, what team she’s brought with her today. 

He wonders if he’s ready. 

“I missed my flight, even though someone warned me that Kalos trains always run late.” She reaches the top of the steps, pausing. His breath catches in his throat as he looks at her, as though he’s been waiting for thirty seven years and not one. 

Her freckles seem to have multiplied, and she has a scar on her leg that he’s going to ask her about the second he can, and there are a thousand other things that he can’t see but that he can _feel_ have changed with her. The very air around her seems different, more solid and sure and steady than he’s ever felt before, and he can’t help but grin. 

“Oh, and who was that ‘someone’?” he asks coyly. 

She grins right back at him, and he’s sure that she’s noticing the changes within him, too. “Pale blond with a short fuse.” He stands, taking his place to begin their battle, and her eyes widen as she lets out a low whistle. “Who’s apparently hit a growth spurt.” 

He laughs, rolling a Pokéball in his fingers as he stalls for time. “Get any closer to finding out who you are?” 

“I’ve got a few things pinned down.” She unclasps her first Pokéball from her belt, and he has a new wave of curiosity hit him as he begins to hypothesize just what she’s going to hit him with first. 

She smirks. “The girl who saved the world.” 

She clicks the button and the ball grows in size before she throws it up in the air, bright light filling the room. “An insufferable know-it-all.” 

Her Decidueye stares at him, and his smile only grows when she finishes, “Alola’s first Champion.” 

They take a moment to let it all settle, and with a deep breath, he says softly, “It’s been a while, Moon.” 

She bites her cheek, still not used to the ways his words affect her. She considers hinting at what she’s realized, at the feelings she’s only just begun to unpack when it comes to him. “I’ve been training for this battle for months,” she says instead, a fire in her eyes. 

He rolls his eyes, smirking as he brings out his Silvally. “Can’t you just say that you missed me like a normal person?” 

She pauses, her face shifting into something wonderfully bright as she locks eyes with him. “I missed you, Gladion.” 

And then the air shifts again, and she’s herself but _more_ , and he puts the rest of his thoughts on hold as he realizes they have unfinished business. 

Moon smirks. 

“Now, I’ll be wanting my title back.” 

**Author's Note:**

> A lovely anon brought me this prompt on Tumblr and I couldn't resist.
> 
> I also word-vomited some thoughts about the whole thing over there but here's a brief summary:
> 
> In my mind, Gladion has come from a toxic environment and struggles with his self-worth, so winning the title would be an amazing moment of validation in his recovery process, but ultimately I don't see him actually wanting the title. I think his real goal in life (and in his recovery process) is to take back control and undo the damage his mother brought, and that'd be through his work at Aether.
> 
> Moon is, essentially, one of those "gifted" children who's been told that she's amazing without actually being given the tools to improve upon herself, and her self-worth is entirely tied to this one skill that's so greatly affected her: battling. Taking time away from the title would be painful but necessary for her to find her other talents and interests.
> 
> Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, refreshments will be served in the lobby lmao


End file.
